


What Makes the Sky White

by LittleChungus



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Transformation, Autopaizuri, Body Modification, Breasts, Cock Tails (not the drink), Cock Udder, Conjoined Twins, Dick Neck, Extra Legs, F/F, Futanari, Giantess - Freeform, Godlike Powers, Growth, Hair Dyeing, Height Differences, Humantaur, Isekai, Large Breasts, Large Cock, Lipples, Mild Spoilers, Modular Bodies, Multi, Multi Cock, Multiple Breasts, Reality Bending, Strange Genitals, There's like fifty more tags in there but hell if I know what to call them, Transformation, dickgirl, extra arms, horse penis, multiple heads, udder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleChungus/pseuds/LittleChungus
Summary: Primal Beasts are powerful creatures with limitless abilities; abilities capable of aiding the skydwellers, or bringing their destruction. One such power allows the modification and molding of any living person, physically or mentally, effectively shaping reality to however the user pleases.This power belongs to a Primal Beast. A Primal Beast by the name of Djeeta.
Relationships: Djeeta (Granblue Fantasy) / Narmaya (Granblue Fantasy), Heles (Granblue Fantasy) / Teena (Granblue Fantasy)
Kudos: 8





	What Makes the Sky White

**Author's Note:**

> This story is something I commissioned CharlieGM to write, who gave me permission to publish it here on their behalf. You can read more of their stories at https://www.furaffinity.net/user/ebikiyo/

Archangels, Draph, Erune, Primals, and skydwellers all  
Their fates intertwine  
Betwixt comedy and the tragedy pall  
At the gods’ behest, these stories align

This is a world that lies within you  
As much as it does mine  
So much as the creators call it ‘Granblue’  
The true joy lies in the jewel of thine 

If you can still hear me, sleeping soul  
Your thoughts ride the cosmic line  
Take the this gift with you and make it whole  
Take in thine the Singularity’s sign

This world is your canvas.  
A sanctuary to play with.  
Paint it many colors, but most of all  
Paint it white.  
~Bahamut

Words, metered in dream, carried Captain Djeeta of the Grandcypher to consciousness. It was not an easy feat. A soft heat like candlelight tempted her to go back, to fall back into her pillow and forget time could pass. Warm sheets courted, but the stiffness of sleeping limbs pressed her to turn. She did, and took in a breath, and exhaled the spice of a skydweller’s bedding. The wool smell charmed her. So too, the late-burning embers of etheric crystals, lighting the room around her bunk.

Captain Djeeta was happy to fall asleep again. There was a voice there, the last time she let go. It told her strange things about new worlds. The only world on Djeeta’s mind was the one sequestered in her phone. The world of free rolls, and monthly storylines, and really, really cute .pngs…

Oh, fine, she thought sluggishly. I’ll check my phone and go back to sleep. Djeeta knew full well that the stimulation may just wake her up in earnest, but that was a risk she was willing to take to beat the roll timer. She was a champion at sleeping, too. If there was anyone who could fall asleep after staring into a colorful splash screen, it would be the captain.

She reached her hand out. The nightstand was gone. It’d vanished. It was one of those nights, it seemed. She mmmhed and yawned, and squirmed to what she thought was the headboard, curling along the way. Her bones yearned to go places, so she streeeeeetched them up-

Until she hit the ceiling. “Ow.”

Something about her voice didn’t sound right. She tried again.

“Sleeeeeeeeeep-y….” Djeeta played with the sound in her mouth. She decided, after some unit of time too easy going to be seconds, that it didn’t sound like her usual brassy alto. That was odd. “Ahhhhhh-duh. Odd. Odd?”

There was sleep in her eye. She brought a hand up, wiped off the grains, and realized, rather un-awakefully, that her hands were much softer. Which would have been an odd sentiment to express. She blinked, and the world faded in through shades of smudges until she could see the delicate ends clearly. 

Djeeta stared at her hands as if she’d discovered them for the first time. They were never this dainty.

She shot up from the under the covers - and hit the ceiling, forehead first. “Ow!”

This boat was doing an awful job giving her the arm, leg and headroom to move around in an existential crisis about oh god I’m on a boat?

A distant and deep creaking sound echoed through wooden supports. Djeeta slid gently to the left. The careful balance broached by mainsails tilted ever so slightly, until a countervailing wind set it back into place. The captain felt the shift in the marrow of her bones. It gave her time to realize that the cabin walls were not apartment plaster, and that her crystal lantern was not a nightlight, and that her computer had turned into a magitechnical power loom.

The bedroom of the modern day had disappeared, and took her old, gamey body with it! She was somehow in someone else’s body, reciting a new name, and wobbling up to standing in a world suspended on air.

Suddenly, she realized: “Ohhh. Ohhh, noo, that wasn’t a dream. This isn’t a dream. This is real. I… I got transported to another world! I’ve been isekaied!”

She paused. “... YES! YES, yes yes, sweet Vyrn’s hide, yesssss!”

Djeeta slung herself out of bed to dance on wobbly legs. After reading a staggering number of light novels and manga about this very phenomenon, she was ecstatic to finally participate as a player. To break the barrier and escape mundanity. She would’ve taken any role - a slime, a spider, some useless class of heroine with a single skill, or-

Mirror. She had to find a mirror. There had to be a mirror in the captain’s quarters, if Djeeta called herself one…

Ah, she found one. Suspended behind the door laid a body-length mirror with a glassblower’s make. Djeeta stepped to it, and marveled at the style, ink brush lining and all.

Her body was surreally attached to her mind, an alien country that felt natural. She was clad in nighties, the armor of the meek. The reference point was low, so she had to guess five feet, with one, maybe two inches of give? More to take, perhaps; there was a definite feeling of smallness. The onesie covered her all so snuggly. Pink and white cotton gave her the silhouette of a dainty girl, but when Djeeta rolled them up, there was definition, hiding under the seam. She traced it, and the subtle rise of muscles leading up to the shoulder and them that face.

The face. Her face, her face. Djeeta recognized the hazel eyes and the straw-colored hair, done up with a hairband. Millions of people knew her face. The protagonist of Granblue’s face. Her breath hitched up until it fluttered out of her mouth. “Gods, I’m in Granblue?”

She smiled broadly. Djeeta nodded like a sage. “Mmmh yes yes, this is a good sign, yes. My game of choice. So glad you accepted me, game, thank you for being so considerate.”

Her swagger only carried her so far. Djeeta realized how cute she looked trying to be smug, and burned a bright blush trying to apologize for it. The realization explained a number of things, including the strange monologue in her dream. The last thing she heard before it ended…

This world is your canvas, so paint it white?

“Signed by Bahamut, huh?” Or some entity pretending to be Bahamut. Granblue had many gods, but only one whose chief rank and power permitted it to do things like pluck mortals out of the real world and drop them in alternate dimensions. This certainly was an alternate dimension, nod-nod, it wouldn’t exactly be right to put her in the canon one.

The words still struck her as awkward. The game’s divine beings - gods, primals, whathaveyou - spoke in verse, so it may have been interpretive to suggest a reason behind the painting terminology. And - well, it was silly, beyond strange to think of this at the same time, but there was precious little Djeeta remembered about her old life. She had come into this universe with immediate knowledge of her smartphone and bedroom furnishings, but nothing about important signifiers, like a name, self-image, former face, pro…

… fess… ion.

Djeeta covered her face. A crooked smile wedged out of her hands. “O-oh,” she warbled. “I forgot, huh. T-that’s convenient. Haha. Really. Convenient.”

She remembered in an instant that she had a profile on the internet - which she was just remembering was a technological marvel of screeching modems. A profile on a website known as Pixiv, with authenticated log-in and warnings about specific avenues of artistic expression.

Djeeta was a fetish artist. “Oh noooo…” A very good fetish artist, but also, one that made stacks of yen drawing specific, extreme kinks for strangers.

She squirmed, hiding impertinently from her reflection. The memories were coming back. The name - Asahi? Tenjou Asahi? It was so alien now, Djeeta barely recognized it, but it was undeniably hers. The world behind the name trickled in. It was an embarrassing thing to admit, that her life was paid by commission. Friends and family were oblivious to it. To them, she was an artist; a shut-in who disappeared for weeks at a time and came out sparingly, but always flush with cash.

Most of the time, she claimed that most of her work was contractual, or under an NDA, or tied to the release of some video game, and it was really quite confidential, so for the sake of everyone involved, please keep it a secret? What a farce. It was still a (largely) bulletproof way to shield her work from scrutiny, but it was a tightrope act whenever besties began hyping up her concept pieces, or her parents started bragging in polite company about their talented daughter working hard to design assets.

The only assets Asahi drew were dicks.

She wrinkled her nose. Well, not just dicks. Any old pervert could draw a dick. There was pride she had to consider, the artisan’s creed. She was more than a dick artist; Asahi was into girls. Cute girls. A variety of girls, since that was what paid. But even that was basic, to put it crassly. The profession she’d chosen was honed through hundreds of late nights at the cintiq, through IM chat logs that were legendary in scope and age. Bigger, they said. More, they said. One dick on a female body quickly turned pedestrian. The drive to make currency and a steady life pushed Asahi the dutiful commission artist into stranger and stranger territory, into ecosystems of underreported kinks...

Hers was body modification. After spending, what was it, six years drawing strange anatomies and building a portfolio, the distant figure in Djeeta’s eyes had fallen in love with it. With humantaurs and multi-limbed bodies, with conjoined partners and twins, and amputees and experimental definitions of what qualified as a ‘-pussy.’ The more elaborate the body, the weirder the layout, the more raucous and take-your-breath-away shocking the shape was… the more Djeeta obsessed over it.

Now the waltz around the subject had stopped at her own flagrant embarrassment. Shame welled up in her bosom. Behind her pink eyes and straw-colored hair and her rosy cheeks, Djeeta saw fear.

After all, when a person falls into another world, they carry their kinks with them too.

She tried to take her mind off it. Djeeta shook her head and sighed. “It’s unseemly to think about those things, me,” she chided her reflection. “Why don’t we think about something else? Agreed? Nod if so.”

Nod-nod went her reflection. “So, full consensus. If I remember what my dream said, then it makes sense, doesn’t it? Whoever brought me here saw that I was a good artist (profession not included), and must have imagined that my creative energies needed to be used elsewhere. Paint it White? Pfeh~ That’s a tease. A joke at my expense. If they gave me the Singularity’s sign, I-”

The rest of her sentence strangled up. She croaked. Her eyes went wide. “Hhhhhhgghghwhat.”

The Singularity in Granblue is the source of Creation. Not even the primals, the beings birthed from Creation, could touch its power.

Djeeta quivered. She trembled violently. She stared into her hands, as if they were responsible for this. Did she…? No, how could she have it? What kind of demented creator deity would give her the power to shape reality? That was, at the very least, grossly irresponsible. And just plain gross by itself.

“Let’s…” Djeeta started. There was a great weakness in her voice. “... say. Theoretically. That I did have the Singularity inside of me. The voice in my dream gave me a world to make my own, and gave me the tools to craft it. I have seen no indication of how to use them whatsoever. If it exists at all, it must be some kind of special permission. A toggle? No no no, I would’ve gotten a prompt already from the great announcer in the sky…”

She waited, eying the ceiling. “Drat. No dice.” It was worth a shot.

She slumped and sighed. “I’m worrying about nothing. All of my knowledge about getting transported to another world comes from… you know! Dorky stuff. I can’t begin to act like the world will do my bidding if I ask it to grow me a cocktail or something.”

Djeeta froze. “Oh. O-ohhh, gosh…”

She stumbled into the door. Her legs lost strength quickly. It made a home in her tailbone, a nub-knot of sensitivity. She hissed, fogging up the frosted glass. “That’s not faaaaaaair…!”

On the whole, it was. Djeeta asked. And now, an appendage was taking shape from her desires. It was like the rustle of tender nipples against an open shirt, a locus of nerve clusters coming together, with flesh portioned out of the aetherial reserve and carefully attached to her frame. Segments slid out, and down, running against the hand-woven cotton. The length wasn’t very thick - maybe two inch diameter, like a cat’s tail would be if it was proportionally sized - but it kept growing longer and longer, and carried with it the architecture to be fully functional!

And then - the nightie made a clicking sound. The tail was free. Djeeta rode aftershocks for seconds until she had the presence of mind to be critical again. She looked over her shoulder, hoping against hope it wasn’t true.

The tail curled in greeting. Its tip practically glowed, with its exposed glands out in the open. Djeeta huffed in despair. “Dammit.”

It was a fully shaped thing, at the very least. Her imagination hadn’t skimped out on the details. The tail had emerged from a remade button flap that sat at the dividing range between the small of her back at her hips. The length was comparable to what she’d thought a human might use, perhaps three feet long. The skin was hairless, and the only signs of perversion were folds and veins at the very end, before the tip fully came out.

The tail raised. Instinct told it to do that. It twitched and lashed in time with Djeeta’s irritation. She could smell it from here. A tiny aura of musk. She could feel it too - the individual cells of muscle that squeezed and flexed to move it around with such dexterity. Feline was probably the best point of comparison - it felt like a litmus for her own emotions.

“This is so embarrassing…” Djeeta muttered.

She unfolded herself from the mirror, careful not to bump the tail into anything behind her. Furniture, sideboards, walls, supports - she didn’t know how spun up the tail was, and she was keen not to do anything rash. Like panic. Panicking seemed like a bad idea. And really - it wasn’t the aesthetics that bothered the captain, but rather, the implications of having her secret desire out in the open.

Djeeta frowned at the thing. As if it could understand the captain’s disdain. She turned on her heel, swishing her hips. “Now everyone’s going to know. Or - no. No, they won’t. You’re going back inside, you little prick.”

She waited. Her eyes flitted up to the ceiling. “Well? Dream monologue? Announcer? …some sort of confirmation, please?”

Nothing happened.

Djeeta chewed on her lip. She began to pace. “So it’s not verbal. That’s worrying.” 

To her annoyance, Djeeta’s tail was following her movements at a languid pace. She tried to wrangle it in her head - but the cute body mod had its own programming. It followed her thoughts at a pace, lying low on exploratory thoughts, then jumping up at exclamations, and leveling out when she felt the cabin air on her butt.

“I was thinking of a cocktail,” she murmured. “... and while I said it, that was a false positive. No, when I saw it in my head, the singularity answered. That’s it! So it’s not really a demonstrative act, it’s the visual side of my brain?”

The tail lashed. It didn’t like the sound of that. 

Djeeta grinned. “Your days are numbered. Prepare to disappear~”

“Captain?”

Djeeta went erect with fear. “Huh?!”

It came from the other side of the door. A girl’s tone with a color like crackling embers. “Hey, sorry! You talking to someone in there?”

Djeeta leveled against the cabin door, adamant not to let it swing open under any circumstances. She realized this was a bad idea when a shiver clicked up her vertebrae. “Yes!” Beat. “Myself.”

There was a pause.

“It’s a lively conversation, ah. Something about… the upcoming quest. Big plans.” Djeeta had no clue how deep into the story she’d been dropped on context alone, which unfortunately meant being cringe-y and vague, at least until she figured out who this was.

“Um,” said the other girl, understandably confused. “If this is about your cocktail-”

Djeeta’s heart hammered. “W-what about it?”

“Teena gets it, y’know? We all have needs.” 

The moment abruptly smoothed out. That was Teena? The fiery swordsage? Is that what she sounded like in - well, what Djeeta assumed was either some form of Japanese or the native tongue of the sky dwellers. More importantly, Teena didn’t care? Djeeta swallowed. “I wasn’t doing something that obscene, you know.”

There was a muffled giggle from the other side. “Ohhh~ Pardon me then, captain! I can leave you to big plans and drop the invitation off later.”

Djeeta blinked. An invitation sounded important. She opened the door a crack of a hair’s length and peered out. “What invitation?”

Cloaked in greens and clothed in bodysuit black and armor red, Teena beamed. She bounced from one heel to the other. The daughter of a proud sword sage, Aletheia, but still a cheeky imp. She was somehow shorter than even Djeeta managed to be. “Narmaya’s hosting a tea party on the upper deck. Heles’ gonna be there, and so will I. Big sister get together! I didn’t wanna be the only shortstop there, so I’d really like it if you’d come.”

Djeeta pouted. Teena flustered. “If you’d like!”

The tea party was somehow not high on Djeeta’s list of priorities. She glanced back to her tail conspiratorially. “... you’re seriously not worried that I have a tail with a man’s genitals at the end?”

Teena looked away sheepishly. “It’s not something we really bring up, you know? You’ve always had it.”

“Always?” Djeeta pressed.

“Mmmh!” Teena affirmed. “That’s a weird question, captain…”

“And you don’t have a problem? At all?”

The two gacha-women looked at one another. Teena sweatdropped. “I can have a problem with it if you want?”

This was an interesting discovery. Djeeta cupped her chin. Not only did she make waves in this pocket reality, the tide lifted perceptions above skeptical notions. Extra appendages were socially acceptable, by mere fact of them existing. And if Djeeta were a betting woman, she might get more concessions than that... “I see… tea sounds good. Let me get dressed and I’ll join you.”

Teena fist-pumped. “All-riiiight~ Thank you very much, captain, this is gonna be great!”

Djeeta waited for her to prance away before she shut the door. If there was any indication of the little war going on in the captain’s head, it was the self-conscious swish of her tail.

She swallowed. She turned, and made a smile in the mirror. It turned out crooked. “There’s a real ethical quandary, huh brain? Ehe…”

The temptation was undeniable. The Singularity touched all things. Even Primals and the Archangels weren’t immune. She could, theoretically, transform the characters she’s known and loved for (wait, when did Granblue come out) seven years! But would you remake your girlfriend if you had the chance? Djeeta hoped not, that was rude. More than rude, it was a violation of their privacy. Clearly, she imagined, her powers had to be used responsibly.

She spied her proportions in the mirror. Her tail lashed irritably. “Shortstop, huh?”

The captain nursed her ethical dilemma for another moment, eyes stuck on her admittedly modest little bust. Small breasts had appeal, it was true, but the more she digested Teena’s comment, the less she could focus on the real problem. It was an eyesore. A gnat in the eyelash. A distressing concern for a primal of theoretically unlimited potential.

She huffed. She snorted. She gave her reflection the stink eye, told her body image to quit it, but no matter how Djeeta tried to ignore her itty bitty titties, they kept rudely intruding on her serious monologue.

Until finally, Djeeta let out a frustrated squeak. Enough. She cupped them, concentrating on the layers of adipose under the blouse, and let out a low whine as the surface underneath began to push and swell against her palms. Her eyes lidded, riding the needle-point sensitivity. This time, the process wasn’t nearly as long. She possessed perky C-cups seconds after pushing for them. They pressed needfully against the buttons, as round and full as she’d trained herself to draw them.

She took herself in. Standing, holding her lewder self, swaying on unsteady morality. “... I really want to use this,” Djeeta told herself. “How troublesome. If I can’t control myself… then I should take it slowly. Indulge in self-control. Don’t become this power-drunk goddess look, you’re better than that. Better than a crass pervert.”

Indeed, she thought as much. Djeeta smiled. “If I’m the Singularity, then… I’ll make art! And enjoy tea! I can do both and be a civilized primal~”

The notion appealed to her sensibilities enough to overcome mental roadblock. Her tail was even starting to wag again. 

There was just one question… “Now - what do I wear…?”

________________________________________

Several minutes later, the penis-tailed captain left her cabin. It was dusk out. Lanterns swung from the mantles as the ship coasted through calm cumulonimbus clouds. She snuck up the superstructure, careful to avoid the eyes of characters she wasn’t ready to deal with. It was a longer journey than she thought. The gacha game took liberties with the structure of the Grandcypher. It also took liberties with the extreme sense of vertigo one got looking over the sides. Sky pirate settings all had that unique fear-of-falling problem. 

Somehow, Djeeta persisted. She poached directions from the Harvin crew to find the tea room and pushed the door tentatively. “Mmmh, hello? Am I late?”

A woman with great horns and a tea kettle gave Djeeta a flutter of a finger-wave. They smelled together like rosemary. “Hardly. Good evening.”

Teena grinned. She offered her teacup and stuck her pinky out. “There’s cap’n. Hey~”

They were set around a circular table with a lace tablecloth furnishing, occupying worn chairs long worn. The tearoom doubled as the ship’s observation deck. The skysea’s landscape tumbled into itself as the purples of sunset faded into cool, dark blues. If it weren’t for the warm yellows of lantern light, then the night’s colors would have enveloped its occupants already.

Djeeta got her courage together and stepped through. She bowed. “Narmaya, Teena - it’s a pleasure.”

The horned woman poured Teena her tea before answering. “Oh, please, it was Teena’s idea. I was compelled not to let her down.”

Narmaya shuffled, setting the kettle back onto a rolling cart on tiptoe. Draphs were a bizarre case. Sexual dimorphism produced tall, burly men and small women - which was definitely a statement, since Teena and Djeeta barely pushed 160cm. The forked horns on her head made it easy to pick Narmaya out at a distance, since they stood out on a pink fringe. She wasn’t a shortstack like the Harvins, but Narmaya was still squished for size, and made up of mostly thigh, breasts, pointed ears and voluminous locks. That, and crippling imposter syndrome.

Djeeta had to contain herself. She wanted to scoop the little swordmaster up and hug her. 

Teena sipped with fake dapper air. “Aaah~ Big sister convention, y’know?”

Djeeta blanked. “Wheh? Big sister convention? Who else did you invite?”

Just then, a body bumped into her. Djeeta scrambled back, clutching her tail to keep it from being indecent. It was Heles - a towering Erune with an imposing physique. At least until she crumpled under the gaze of three other women. “I am not late, am I?”

Teena pointed. “Big sister convention. Hi, Heles~”

Djeeta held the tip of her tail protectively. She paced back to give the Erune room to step through. “Good evening?”

Heles bowed awkwardly. She stooped under the door frame. “A-ah. My sincerest apologies if I made your tail engorged, captain.”

Djeeta flushed. Reassurances died in her throat, turning into a weeze.

“And, um. Narmaya - it is an honor to have been offered an invitation to share tea with you. I-I must admit, my expertise on the matter is based on the courtly mannerisms of my kingdom so…”

Narmaya sighed softly. “You’re adorable.”

“Huh?!” Heles crumpled into herself. “... well gosh, thank you…”

“A seat is open,” Narmaya said. She gestured across the table. “Biscuits are ready too. We can choose something to talk about once everyone is served, alright?”

Heles didn’t reply, so much as she shambled to her seat, completely red in the face. Erunes were a different sort of monster girl than Draphs. Closer to elves than dwarves, if elves were statuesque kemonomimis. They were supposedly created as an experiment into the forging of the perfect being, a spellcaster race that secluded themselves in lineages of tailed and untailed royalty. At 168cm, Heles embodied the best of their physical traits. Her hair tumbled down in a silver braid, framing silver gauntlets, silver greaves and the silver filigree of a breastplate and armor skirt. 

Unfortunately, Heles also embodied the Erunes’ sheltered culture. She was as gullible and clueless as they came. It was adorable to read on mobile, but seeing it in the little movements and flustered attempts, Djeeta had to sit down. She was liable to topple over from overstimulation. Now that was a word.

She slotted herself into a seat with stuffing poking out of the seams. Her tail wriggled into the hole. She was starting to get a hang of its quirks. It ran on autopilot in front of the other women, which was a blessing because Djeeta’s thoughts were on everything except the prospect of a normal tea party.

She was making plans.

Now, the woman that became Djeeta was used to wading in the conversational shallow end. She was an introvert. Leading wasn’t her specialty, but listening? Asking follow-ups? Asahi was good at obfuscation and misdirection, and as it turned out Djeeta was just as good at splitting her thought process. A small part of her was engaged in Teena’s fire mastery and Narmaya’s dotes on the three of them, but the other part was sketching.

“Teena dear - give us a twirl?”

“Like this?”

“Mmmh. See the hose I made for her? It looks very good, doesn’t it?”

“Is this what they call ‘panty hose?’ How does it manage such a texture?”

“It’s very difficult to knit without magic - or a power loom.”

“Does it make my butt look big?

“Why yes, dear, it does.”

“So forward…! Narmaya, you minx...”

Djeeta was torn. There were a lot of ways to reshape reality. It was a lot like drawing freehand - the graphite can make anything, but to create depth and nuance, the artist had to deliberate on what to do. Sketch lightly, imagine at a distance, erase, visualize. Not every artist could see the image through the mind’s eye, but she had to do it. A bad stroke was hard to erase - and likewise, going too far and giving present company too excessive of a gift was liable to break her concentration. 

And for all her recent talk of using her powers responsibly, captain Djeeta was still on edge. The old ghost of decency was haunting her inhibitions. She couldn’t let go, in spite of herself. It was couched in artistic decency, but really? She was intimidated. Even afraid. They accommodated for her tail as if she’d always had it - but what if they didn’t? What if a step too far humiliated Djeeta in front of her crew? 

She had to be careful. Approach their desires from a position of security.

As she lurked, a thread came up on the second round of tea. Heles had given Teena a troubled tilt of the head, and that provoked Teena into an indigent squirm. “Mmmfh. What I wouldn’t give to be Erune tall.”

Heles raised her eyebrows. “Is that a common request? Surely, we’re not all that-”

“Yeah! O-on average!”

Teena sidled up to compare, hand level. “See? See?! You’re huge! I want that.”

Djeeta hid her scheming behind the teacup’s porcelain rim. This was her chance. She sipped, and contemplated...

“I’ve always been a runt. I mean, sure, I’m not that small, but-” Creaaaaak. “-it wouldn’t kill Bahamut to give me a few inches every now and then-” Groaaaannnishhrrrriip. “Late growth spurt? A little magic?” Pip-pop, pop-pop-pop. “I don’t think it’s a big demand, now is it?”

Teena’s figure was insatiable. It tested the dimensions of her costume from all angles. Her shoulders rose over the other girls as she gesticulated about her dire circumstances. The hose bore through until her hips and musculature grew too big, and fissures erupted. The corset unspooled, as strings snapped, and the buckle along her sternum popped, and buttons went tinkling to the floor. The tirade kept going, long after she beat Heles’ height, until she was approaching two meters’ height and had split her leathers to ribbons.

She stuck her tongue out. And promptly swatted away the skeletons of her gloves. “Point is - I need more. Obviously.”

“You certainly seem to want more…” Heles commented, staring up.

Djeeta regarded Teena’s new stature fondly, but she couldn’t help but feel something was missing. She whistled for attention. “Need more, Teena? You’ve already got a horsecock.”

She waited for the pin to drop, for disgusted condemnations to loose like arrows. Instead…

Narmaya giggled. “She has a point, goblin killer. Maybe you have enough?”

Teena crossed her arms and pouted. The curtain around her groin, what used to be a skirt, quickly tented up. “I don’t think so. Hmmph. My horsecock is fine.”

Her cheeks turned red. The bulge inside the crotch curtain tightened up, harder and harder, bulging with veiny attitude, until it finally came loose. A long, flat-headed penis erected over the tablecloth, nearly knocking into the vase in the center. Glossy balls dropped underneath it, stealing a whine from the spellcaster’s lips.

Heles hopped to attention. “Watch the roses, if you can!” 

At the same time, Djeeta bit her cheek. She could do more. So, she pushed for more…

The impish giant reeled back, holding her new organ away from the flowers in the center of the table. “I’ll be fine,” she snorted, ears flattening out. “I’m just a little excited is all.”

She shimmied, clearly hiding something. No, it wasn’t the ponytail - the literal one - tufting out of her tailbone. The taint underneath was tender, and the anus, Djeeta imagined, gained sensitivity with size. Teena did an admirable job hiding her pleasure, but then her smile turned crooked as the darkly-tinted hole hit open air. “E-eheheh….”

For her own flourish, Djeeta indulged. The strip of ribbed shirt still covering her breasts bulged at two specific spots. As her dick stayed in place, hard as a rod, two more spade-shaped tips cut through the fabric, until the center finally had to break. Dicknipples stood, proud and alert, 15 cm tall.

It was like signing a portrait. Even if it made Djeeta tremendously embarrassed, dicknipples were her signature. She couldn’t put her name down without them.

“You seem pretty ‘cocky’ Teena...” Heles chanced. 

Djeeta wanted to curl up into a ball and die after that pun. No luck, though. Teena was rolling with it. She handled her horse cock like it was an old friend. “Sure, sure, laugh it up. Just… nnnfh, respect them.”

Pre-cum splattered onto the table as she absentmindedly felt it up. It took Djeeta by surprise, but it really shouldn’t have. The mage would’ve had years of experience playing with herself. The peaks and valleys of so much masculinity was hard to ignore, and just touching them was liable to send the brain into a lewd fugue state. One dick was troublesome, but three dicks? And the main one was enormous even by her suitor’s standards…

Djeeta belatedly realized something was wriggling up her armor dress. She was perhaps unsurprised to learn it was her tail, presenting itself through her cleavage to be sucked. “Not now…!” she whispered.

Narmaya looked her way. “Hm? Captain?”

“Nothing!” Djeeta protested. “Nothing, nothing! It’s just-... my tail is. Quite a handful.”

Narmaya regarded her fondly. Djeeta slumped back, withering under her sweetness. She was observant in the extreme, like she had two sets of eyes.

“I would say it is quite-” “-the breastful? Mmhmhmh~”

Djeeta jolted. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to get complacent. In the span of a daydream, Narmaya’s head turned, and another slid out of the drop shadow. Their necks shifted along the collar seam until it seemed the draph always had two heads, perched so close together their horns clicked as they moved individually.

“What’s the matter-” “-dear?” The heads said in carefully metered unison. “You’re turning pale.”

“Um.”

“Tchehehe~” Teena snickered. “Double trouble’s got you now~”

Narmaya’s hands lifted up, running through a double fringe. “Heles, dear-” “Could you help me do my hair back up again? It’s so troublesome-” “-looking after two.”

Heles nodded nervously. “Of course! Anything for another princess.”

Djeeta was loath to admit that she had lost control of her powers, but she was sinking down in her seat precisely because of a daydream too far. To her credit - she’d thought about multiple heads before. The mechanics always seemed too chaotic when TV shows and artists played with them. Yes, there were two brains, but in most circumstances, the heads belonged to the same person, and in Djeeta’s estimation, the two were extensions of the same mind in the center. Barring, of course, conjoined twins, but there were no twins here. Not yet, anyway.

The heads made placated noises as Heles began to comb. For the thrill of it, the captain let reality’s brush embellish. A red hue seeped into the crown of the right head. Heles helped to spread it between combing strokes, until all the pink was suffused with warmer color. Something about the process made Teena moan - though Djeeta couldn’t imagine what. Maybe it was coming to sudden terms with the fact that Narmaya was definitely a redhead.

Just to be safe, though, Djeeta dotted her ‘i,’ and put enough weight on to make the draph’s hips jut out, and her belly poke through the belt-loop. “Mmmh, Heles, dear?” Narmaya commented absentmindedly. “I think I’m-” “-overweight.”

“Nonsense,” Heles said back to her conversationally. “This draph swordmaster is not anything of the sort.”

“We appreciate-” “-the distinction but you don’t have to call-” “-us the ‘draph’ swordsmaster. Narmaya will do.”

Djeeta bit her cheek. This was such a bad idea. “Well-” She stopped. “At least you’re not falling to pieces, right?”

Heles blinked incredulously. She let out a breath. “... yes. It’s already happened, hasn’t it?”

Arms popped off at the shoulders. Her legs popped off at the shoulders. Heles fell to the floor with a blithe expression, as if the inertia of the truth had taken hold and she didn’t have permission. The erune did allow herself to say ‘ow’ as she tumbled onto the floor in five weighty pieces. Four limbs, one torso and head, mildly bothered.

Djeeta lurched, but Teena beat her to the punch. “Heles! You shouldn’t be trying to move around like that.”

Teena circled around the table. The floor reverberated with her footfalls; she’d gotten very heavy thanks to her size, all that mass concentrated in the, well, obvious places. She bent over, and the sight of a tanned anus triggered Djeeta’s sheepishness all over again. Every step forward the captain took, she took another one back in shame.

“Nnngghh, careful,” Heles whispered. Her ears folded with worry. “Teena’s dick is very large, I might hit it.”

“Sorry! So sorry! I can’t control it sometimes, eheh~”

The arms and legs had gone inert. Djeeta didn’t want to unnerve anyone, least of all herself, but that was a small concern compared to the alarming level of comfort the captain had found for herself. She had expected, perhaps wanted, for someone to start panicking. She waited for concern to turn into worry, or even a modicum of disgust, but the scene was playing out as if the four of them were adapted to the mild inconveniences of being…

Sex monsters. The word made Djeeta shudder. She liked the sound of that. 

Though, looking at them all, it didn’t reflect their physical status, not really. This was amateur hour. Teena’s equus state was easy to imitate. Two heads were fine, but a little on the low scale. She chastised herself for that. At least a squirming quadrapelagic Heles was cute to see, especially being lifted by her handles.

Heles writhed a little helplessly in Teena’s hands. “That look is quite perverse. I hope you’re not thinking of something lewd.”

Teena’s dicknipples stiffened with concern. “Whaaat? I’d never… w-without permission.”

Djeeta pushed her chair out. She’d meant to do it covertly, but the act read as decisive. Four heads turned. Djeeta froze. 

“... yes?” Narmaya finally asked. 

“A-aha,” Djeeta worked up the nerve to stand distaff from the table. “Just letting my body breathe. Hope you don’t mind?”

The four nodded approval amongst themselves. She had their blessing. Now Djeeta had to prove herself weird. Not just for her sake - but for the sake of her subjects. They deserved better than a pedestrian’s work.

She cupped her hands. An image came to her. She took it from the ethereal and doused her hands in its warmth, giving the image a shape, and the definition of something real. Her fingers fanned, and fell to her hips. They spread. They molded. Pressing the image out into reality, and urging the mass to comply.

She felt it, and with her audience’s gasps, they all saw it. Bulging from beneath the pink battle skirt came the padding of hip bone and fat, but also? The splitting of her leg. A seam ran quickly down to the knee and into the greave underneath. With a jostle, Djeeta made it come loose, stomping life into the thing. A litany of pulses ran through the plumbing, as it adjusted to a new order and forked around a pair of panties that simply couldn’t cover two sets of crotches. She gasped, bending to the table for support. The eyes of the others followed, disbelieving, constantly assessing new additions as new. 

The captain loved them for their gullibility. There was no limit - because of course, Djeeta always had three legs and- NNNnnnnghh, two tails. And two… fat… bulges around her pussies…!

A concept she’d experimented with in her mortal days was the idea of a breast pussy. A boob that had been relocated to somewhere it had no business being. She was revisiting it again, running her hands down ballooning sphere bulges in her skirt. Her tails tempted her with a drink, and in her weakness, she mouthed to suckle on the nearest one. They were round things. Full, and firm, carefully weighted. 

“Mnnnmmmmhhh… mmh…”

“Is the captain okay?” Heles whispered.

“I think she’s a little excited,” Teena snickered.

Under pressure, Djeeta’s imagination got away from her. Before she knew what was happening, images began to dance. Her breast pussies grew warm. She could smell sex on the air. Teena’s cocks. Her eyes flitted, and found multiple heads, and stumped limbs, and Djeeta couldn’t stop from gorging on the images. “Ohhhh, this isn’t good~” she moaned.

She felt a pinch at her bust, and her hands went to investigate. The bust she’d made for herself shuddered, testing the sequin center of her dress. They pressed, and she moaned, and they shoved against the wall that supported them. They grew bigger, and then that bigness compounded on itself, pressing ever tighter.

“I-I might need help,” Djeeta squeaked, trying desperately to get control back. “I think I’m falling-” “-in love?!”

The girls let out a collective gasp. Djeeta’s head shimmered in two different spots, and in a cut too brilliant for them to conceive, she took in a breath and let out a loud moan in stereo! Her nose, eyes and face cloned, followed by her chin, and between them, blonde hair bristled and tumbled down shoulders and spilled down the breadth of the back. She arched, pitching forward, gripping the end of the table with a frightening strength. Her fingers curled, and then air was scented.

Predictably, Teena was very horny. She tried to hide it by setting Heles in her chair. “C-captain?”

Djeeta barely heard her. Two heads, independently perceiving pleasure, reported their findings back like gunshots. She’d nearly gone deaf from the feedback. “Whuh…?”

Narmaya excused herself and came around to tend. “Poor captain… she must have orgasmed already.”

How humiliating. She tried to outdo them, and managed only to make her body heave and transform half the way. Now all she had to show for it was a triple leg set up, double breast pussies, twin-tail cocks and an unrepentantly big bust that was larger than Narmaya’s head! Err, heads. It was a terrible inventory…

As she fell into Narmaya’s arms, though, a devious thought ran through the grey matter. “Ohhh…” she moaned. 

Narmaya took the bait. “Mmmh? Dear? Is something wrong?” 

Heles squirmed, gesturing as best she could as a torso. “Please! Is the captain okay? Relief looked troublesome…”

Djeeta played possum. Two eyes out of four open. She laid in the draph’s hands, dainty and unmoving. It lured Teena out of her hiding spot, patting the shaft. It made Heles push herself further upright to see. When she was sure she had a good angle, Djeeta broke out the brushes again.

“... Teena!”

“What?” said the fire mage indignantly.

“Can you be bothered for a moment? I-if you can spare the time?”

“Heles!”

Heles squirmed. Delicate folds drew down her stumps. They turned pink as her face turned bright and bashful. “Please… put my limbs back on?”

Teena realized, belatedly, that Heles had forgotten to socket her limbs back into her body. A second ago, that was impossible, but now, her limb pussies were ready, and were quite deep, so the cocks on the ends would have room to dock. Of course, the erune’s arms and legs were strewn about all over the floor, which meant she’d have to bend over and pick them up, one at the time. Teena folded her ears, made bratty noises, but after a fuss, she endeavored to be good for once, instead of the mischievous giant. “Hold oooooon,” the mage dragged. “I don’t like putting my ass to the air.”

Djeeta did, though. For good reasons that she wagered were about to get better. 

As Teena dove-tailed to pick up an arm, there was shimmer at the knee. She carried it, throbbing head at the shoulder, up to Heles’ torso and knocked it into the slot.

Heles hissed through her teeth. “Not so hard, m-muh… magister. They’re very…”

Heles searched for the word, but Teena was already scooping up the second arm, ready to assemble the Erune instead of waiting for her to answer. Phantoms of second legs were kicking and posing, slowly elongating a translucent new half from behind. 

“... haaahh, goodness… these joints…”

Pussy juice dripped from the seam. Her mind was awash. Magical energy sent feeling into the modular arm, brokered by a powerful ring of pleasure that separated the two nerve circuits and gave it a sense of separation.

Teena aligned the other arm, rotated it. It slid in with an obvious shhhlick.

“Fffuhh-” Heles bit her lip. Not like this. A princess of her station needn’t call out obscenities in beautiful company, but the delight arcing from one fingertip from the other was liable to make her scream. 

Teena could hear it strangulated in the erune’s voice. It made her dicknipples ache. And the nipples under her body too…

Strange that she couldn’t remember being a taurified mage before this interaction, but then? A lot was strange today. Four legs were a lot to manage. So were five dicknipples. 

She twitched. Seven. Seven dicknipples down her human-shaped taur body. N-no, nine. Eleven?! Twelve finally settled her anxiety, but just enough for her to have to stop and clench her front cock to keep it from spewing. It wasn’t her fault the room was beginning to stink of sex and sweat, the two things that made Teena a giddy and insatiable stallion…

Still, she had a job to do. Teena waited for her body to settle, and gestured for help from Heles. She obliged - while Narmaya was murmuring sweet nothings to the captain - and hiked herself onto the table, positioning her hip-joint sockets for insertion. “J-just… put them in!”

“I’m trying…” Teena bit back. The second cock between her second set of legs twinged and tensed, wanting attention, but the way Teena was turning out, she couldn’t reach them. She did her best to ignore their pleas and picked up the two muscular legs in her grasp. 

She hesitated. A seeping richness collected in her tauric rear end. She tried to fight it, but it was siphoning her attention away. Her heels ground into the wood floor, and the nervous system around that spot, that fattening spot between her thighs finally got her to pay attention. What was supposed to be a set of testes for the cock in her undercarriage accumulated mass, rounding with cleavage and pinkening with color. It took on splotches the wider it became, mixing the near strawberry brightness with the tans and dark tints attached to her taint. Four points of pleasure eroded into teats, and eroded further, as mushroom-capped heads sprouted, one after the other.

“Hhhhaaaaaaaaaa~aaah….”

“Oh goodness…” Teena mumbled.

A puddle of cum oozed out from underneath. It took Teena a hefty moment to come back to her senses. “R-right… your leg… legs? Both?”

Heles nodded. She didn’t want to press the mage too hard. Dick udders were challenging. At the same time, though, Teena had faced worse with her brother. These petty difficulties were surmountable, if only they had the patience. 

Teena’s dicknipples smeared precum down the Erune’s legs, like a brush on canvas, as they brushed across her chest. Implicit bias made even the lightest of cleanliness worries a nonfactor. 

She approached. Heles steeled herself, eyeing away. Teena took that to mean timidity. “It’ll be quick, okay Princess?”

“Oh-kay…” Heles said back to her, trying out the words as if she’d met them for the first time. Teena wielded the legs with the mechanical precision of a lamplighter. She slotted one in, and the room echoed with a yelp. 

“AAAaaah~ Gods above, it’s too good…”

“That’s one. And now, number two-” 

Shhhhhlick! “FUCK. Aaah… mmmfh, no, I musn’t… a-aaahh, for all the terraces in the sky, fffuck…”

The erune’s limbs jerked with the lingering responsiveness of a stitched up computer. She was soaking wet. Her armguards, greaves and ribbon fabrics dripped with her fluids, those that hadn’t fallen off her body when the limbs were detached in the first place. Suction kept them tied, and magic connected them to the grid, but her brain was snared in a low hum of pleasurable feelings, banded at regular intervals. She couldn’t calm down.

Somehow, Djeeta thought this wasn’t a good enough fate. So, to get Heles on her feet, she sent a jolt to her tailbone.

“Hnnnh?!”

Heles practically leapt into Teena’s arms. Her rear ignited with tingling. She buried her face in Teena’s tits, wrestling with the taur’s arms in a struggle that was more cute than confused. Three little penises, splayed out like a peacock’s plumage, stood proudly at the point where spongy erection meat met bone. 

The both of them were shocked. At the same time, their skin was electric, and touching was suddenly so wonderful, they didn’t want to break off. Heles made noises about not being a bother. Teena rebuked her in mumbles. Their faces ambled closer and closer together, until Teena found the sense to scoop Heles up by the hips and kiss her. “Mmmh…~”

She kicked a back leg out. A stallion like Teena had a shockingly short refractory period. And a modular erune like Heles was used to bodily malfunctions. They deserved one another. So, promptly, they began to make out. 

Djeeta let out the breath she’d been holding throughout the process. The satisfaction of seeing their dance in the flesh was incomparable. Their enjoyment reverberated somehow, casting shadows in her mind. She could almost feel the women in their demented embrace.

“Aren’t they delightful?” Narmaya cooed. “Just-” “Magical.”

Djeeta curled fifteen toes, watching them in the safe embrace of Narmaya’s chubby frame. It was fun to watch Teena and Heles have fun, but she wanted some fun of her own too. Where else to look, but on a tableau like the draph…

“Hm? Djeeta? Your-” “-expression is puzzling. What’s on your-” “-mind, dare I ask?”

Djeeta giggled symphonically. “Oh, you know. Your legs.”

Narmaya was flattered - least of all because her twinful body had four to spare. “I suppose you’d want to touch them all.”

Inertial revelations lurched their way into reality, and sent Narmaya teetering away. Djeeta, who had been holding close to the draph for support, deftly traded places. She threaded her hands under Narmaya’s armpits and pressed her up, before the split could take hold. “Dear? J-just a moment, I…”  
She was normally so composed. Djeeta could see it, though, on both faces; the ratcheting tension in her body. Flesh cleaved down the middle of her thighs, splitting with the elasticity and gummy texture of taffy, rolled by industrial press. The sync between Narmaya’s heads wavered, as the legs cleanly spit into feminine shapes, equal in mass. The bones popped and clicked to connect it all together, to create new ligaments and butterfly out the hips. Each leg forked at a roughly 45 degree angle from the hip. In the gap spaces where buttocks must have gone, there was only thigh, and pocket-folds of skin cutting into the manifold.

“M-my… pod is having a bother…” Narmaya panted out.

The pod was an experimental concept. Always on the cutting room floor, asked for all of once. Djeeta had wondered how it would work. She even did up sketches of how the plumbing would be arranged. It was more like building a four-legged tank, in some regard - where the subject had a base instead of a defined taint, ass or monodimensional sex. 

Djeeta explored, just to be sure she had it right. Narmaya’s velvetine voice came in waves. So it was possible…

The way she built it was pragmatic, as it was tremendously horny. The fat saved from one ass was donated to a pillowy cushion that ringed the limbs and protected it from harm. An anus connected to the very center. At the cost of some swelling in the base, there came room for birth canals, leading to individual cervixes and a unified womb. 

Hey, engineering body modifications wasn’t easy. On top of artisanry, Djeeta fancied herself a logical engineer. Not only did she make twisted bodies, she made them work.

As the body came to rest, and Djeeta’s imagination retreated back to its horny burrow, Narmaya tentatively let herself back down. The angle in her knees evenly distributed weight, so that the shortstack could comfortably stand on the balls of her many feet.

She took gulps of air. The process took a lot of energy out of her. It left her sweating - and her legs completely bare. The boots and stocking had torn cleaning in the first splitting. Djeeta empathized with the effort it took to control one’s impulses. She’d rendered the shortstack with four very active sexes in total. They were all itching at the back of the draph’s mind, filling her heads with feedback.

Such a curious thing - Djeeta and Narmaya felt their additions twice as hard as their tea partners, even if they had comparatively less to play with. 

There were precious few times Narmaya was left so vulnerable. Djeeta, ever-honorable, elected only to take advantage of her drowsiness. She came up behind the draph, supporting her arms. The heads demurred, nuzzling into Djeeta’s shoulders. She was warm. Everything about them was warm.

“When was the last time you held me this way?” she whispered.

Djeeta didn’t know. She whispered back. “A long time, I think.”

Narmaya nuzzled in parallel. “Look at us, indulging ourselves. Should we fully devolve into animals?

“What?”

She looked up into the captain’s eyes with an expression full of purpose. “We don’t know how the three-legged captain feels,” “but I have an appetite for their love. Heles and Teena are satisfying themselves with it.” “I want it too.” “Stop teasing me with this sweet nothing, I want more.”

Djeeta’s jaw gaped open. This told Narmaya that she needed more convincing.

“It may seem excessive to us women to demand so much, but your eyes, your touch, it’s honestly infatuating. I can’t stop thinking about it. Every second spent admiring this body is driving me crazy. Mmmmh, I feel like an animal.”

It was all Djeeta could do to breathe. “W-what do you-” “-want me to do?”

Narmaya smiled darkly. It crept across both faces in a sinister glide. “What you want with me-” “Now.” “Figure me out-” “And make me scream.” 

Her eyes glittered like the inner facets of garnets. It was a request Djeeta couldn’t take lightly.

At the same time, it was a most dangerous proposition. Narmaya couldn’t fathom what she was asking of the captain. No amount of trying to explain her reality warping abilities would break through the mental bubble, not unless she name-dropped the Singularity, effectively changing their relationship for good. Precise control over her thoughts was tested, and proved tenuous. If Djeeta got horny again, if she started drowning in her desires once more, then the brush would spill everywhere, and her true self would paint them into maddening creatures. The unbidden sexiness of her wet dreams, shapes glimpsed in the shadows of her unconscious mind.

Narmaya was implicitly asking to give up on decency. Though she didn’t know it, she had become Djeeta’s Id, the object of her deepest carnal convictions.

Djeeta caught her breath and let ice settle in her veins. Her heads considered, in a way that disheartened Narmaya after a moment’s hesitation.

It was likely, though not a sure possibility, that denying them all a chance to collapse like pregnant stars would let them find some sort of normalcy on the ship. There was a slim chance they could be cohorts, not comrades under bed sheets. There was a slim chance too that Djeeta could hope to remain friends with Narmaya after such a swift rejection, without violating her trust and resetting her back to normal.

She was responsible for the draph-creature’s desires. And beyond that, Djeeta was exceptionally horny. Devils cared not for the obscene, and what was she or any of the women now but proud, debaucherous monsters.

A naughty sneer came over the captain’s lips. “Do you want-” “To cum first?” “Or should I~?”

Narmaya’s mood instantly returned. She fluttered a hand over her chest. “My word, how-” “Forceful. No one asks, so-” “-I will take that indulgence.”

The poor woman spent so much time worrying for others that even this request was strange and new to her. Djeeta knew she needed love. Hell, she begged for it, fighting for attention with indignant shaming. She moved in. Narmaya turned to her, and Djeeta put her arms down the sides. As she trailed down the hips, Heles’ and Teena’s lips broke, and the next round of desire was heralded with a mind-obliterating wail of want.

“Gaaaaawwwd, Erune. You’re too good at this. I… I need it down there.”

Heles startled. “Down there?! You can’t be-”

“I need to fuck your mouth. Right now.”

“Stallion Teena is serious about this…”

Djeeta bent the pod-legged draph over the table. At the same time, Teena pulled out of the chairs with her front feet, while Heles prepared herself to take the largest aching shaft of them all. It was hard - but so was the cock, and the stench surrounding it. If the sweet smell of sex didn’t surround the Erune already, courtesy of the pussy-shaped rings suctioning her limbs into her body and nursing extant cocks, then it did now. Teena’s blatant masculinity surrounded her, and she drank it in like a hit off hookah smoke.

Djeeta smelled it from two vantage points. She let the stench drive her to terrible thoughts.

Narmaya whined plaintively. “You’re touching-” “-there?”

“Mmmhm~,” Djeeta hummed stereophonically. She had sent a hand down Narmaya’s love handles, past the mutated waistline, and into an exploratory approach towards a smooth, hairless crotch. “You wanted to-” “-scream for me, big sister?”

Narmaya nodded adamantly. 

“Then please…” “... Use every hole.”

Heat turned to crackling energy. The captain’s fingers slipped past the hoods of Narmaya’s side vaginas, touching up nerves that were already tender. Narmaya tried to gasp out, but her voice caught in the diaphragm. She looked down, frantically trying to get it to come out. It refused to squeeze up to her mouths, so with some effort, she directed the pressure out a place she knew couldn’t resist - the lines growing along her boobs.

All seven of them.

They sprouted in bulbing patches, spread in uneven alignment down her torso. A gasp barreled through, and popped with the languid popping of swollen lips. Their timing was slow, their tempo andante, but soon the room was filling with her voice the more she used it. 

Djeeta was impressed, though far from done. With the draph crumpling under her hands an abject lust, Djeeta spread her thoughts around. A new head fell out of the drop shadow between the extant ones. “Show me your pussy-” “-your real pussy-” “-big sister.”

Narmaya grunts in nine ways. She bucked her hips against the table and sent it rocking. The front sex, the one facing a hungry Heles, ballooned with the stuffing of breast tissue. It sagged and jostled between spindly thighs, heavy with purpose. Tongues wriggled around Djeeta’s fingers, coming out of the sides, slathering vaginal fluid and saliva as they came.

The situation called for more arms. So Djeeta obliged - breaking off the attention to split her hands, and then the rest of arms, into more limbs. Two more, to be precise.

Her three heads called lovingly as they grappled around Narmaya’s mouth pussies. “You deserve-” “-as much love-” “-as I can give you~”

Across the room, Teena was struggling not to pin Heles to the ground and let her lust take over. So many penises needed attention, and she was afraid of the day all of them would cum at the same time. That may be today. Heles was so beautiful with so many pussy attachments, she couldn’t resist looking at her and fantasizing. She felt tied up with urges. Badly bottled up, carbonated with all the hormones inside.

So carbonated, in fact, that she was continuing to grow. The last remnants of her bodysuit began to slough off as her head approached the ceiling and her back end gained a new segment. “Nnnnnngh, hurry up! Suck it!”

Heles salivated. “Hold steady! I’m… mmuhhh… mmmfh…!”

She tried to concentrate on the cock ahead of her, but her vision cone was falling. Like her head was collapsing into a puddle of quicksand… no, more like a sinkhole. A passage that was opening up. Teena tilted her head, watching with barely restrained affection. Heles made a few more gurgling noises before her head managed to disappear into her collarbone. She was headless for a second and a half before a new groaning sound came out of her sex. 

Her body tumbled back into an overturned chair. It made motions to breathe. The unaltered sex vibrated as her taildicks hardened again. Hips bucked, the center heaved, and in a long drive of sweat flesh, a tower of dick shot out of the Erune’s pussy and dangled, with the head and its drenched hair dripping at the very tip. 

“S-sorry!” Heles coughed. “I-I had to… b-bwweeughhh…”

She vomited cum onto the floor. Balls dropped some ways behind her, and she felt it connecting up in the same brainspace as her breasts once occupied. Her nervous system rapidly realigned as she became intimate friends with the floor and her ankles.

Teena nodded, furiously horny. “Frot with me! Come on, e-enough stalling…!”

Heles did her best to accommodate. Her legs pushed off, sending her cone of vision bouncing as her thighs wobbled. She was now the biggest among them, the fattest cock among the girls. Teena had the most, but only Heles had three feet to boast, and all of it using her brain as the tip of a power conduit. She had known a low level of intensity before, but in this configuration, she would always be alert, always entertaining delusions and ideations of rampant sex.

And if that wasn’t good enough, the mushroom glands of a new dick were pushing through the empty space at her shoulders…

But that was up there. Heles didn’t care for what happened where other mortals had heads. Her head was at crotch level, as it was approaching the flat, frontal horsecock between Teena’s fidgeting legs. She scooped it up with wandering hands. The mage groaned, spawning a fourth tauric segment, bringing more and more dicknipples and dick udders into fruition. “Do it!”

Cum dribbled down Heles’ chin. The mental power it took to comprehend questions was too much for a head doubling as the pleasure center for her massive genitals. Instinct guided, and it told her to shove face into urethra and kiss.

“HHHGNNGK-” That was nearly enough. Teena shoved into Heles, sending her sprawling onto the floor, but still suckling away. Teena stood over her, four sets of ankles quivering - then five. Her hands fell to her front-most thighs and she struggled, teeth bared, not to moan out again.

Her lips firmed up to hold it, until they turned sideways. Teeth turned to vaginal discharge, and her voice was briefly silenced, as her mouth turned into a cunt. The skin telescoped from there, sliding down, turning trunklike. An onahole cunt-mouth.

She arched her back, shuddering out breaths as Heles made out with her dick. This wasn’t enough, it was far from enough. Hormones made her blood boil. Heat funneled into her bloodstream from sprouting nodes, following along the dicknipples at precisely dangling points. Three dozen, going on four dozen breasts were growing testes, and she could feel the injection of aggressive hormones dilute her body, tasting like a powerful saline drip in the back of her throat.

She desperately needed to fuck Heles’ mouth. Teena gave her front cock a preparatory smack on the side. The number of balls appended to it doubled twice, to eight, before lips blossomed on the flattened head. “Iiiiiii need it!”

“!!!” It was too fast, too quick. Heles’ mouth was plowed through. The act was a perverse reimagining of a sounding exercise, with Teena’s cock ramming up the throat canal into the urethra spaces of megadick. To Heles, it was like trying to take a horse. It was all her hands could do to keep the both of them from tipping over completely. 

Noises were now no longer a consistent deluge of throaty moans and girlish squeaks. It was almost all the wet slaps, squirts and gurgles of overactive bodies. Heles, turned into a modular woman with vagina slots, a relocated head, and dripping with the rivulets of sexfluid and sweat, tangling with Teena, stopping only at eight tauric segments and sixty-six dicknipples, eight udders and an onahole on her face, and her only workable mouth inches deep into her partner. They were beyond words.

Narmaya and Djeeta were not.

“Touch me there-” “Captain! Please!”

“There’s so much-” “-we can do-” “hnnnngh, Bahamut save me…!”

A haze was developing, but their positioning was relatively secure. With three heads, Djeeta could mark from multiple angles where the other pair was in relation to them, and steadily pull Narmaya along. She was busy losing her mind to two fingerings at the same time, and two oral exercises in the tangled mess of lipples. Tongues licked and kissed at random. Narmaya was riding on too much pleasure to resist, and Djeeta’s imagination had taken tyrannical control. 

She rolled her knuckles, her fingers along supplicant lips. Six fingers each didn’t satisfy her. Seven? That could do. She may very well want more than that, but one thing at the time.

“You have hands, don’t you?” she asked in one mouth. “Why not help me out?”

A dangerous proposition with a double feedback loop, but Djeeta couldn’t handle it anymore. She craved the sensation. Narmaya nodded obediently. She turned to look, and found Djeeta opening her armpits up to her, and displaying forests of seedling dicks.

“My word,” she mumbled.

Djeeta grinned in triplicate, through powerful blush. “Jack as many off as you can, please. I may just play with your prolapse tail when you’re done.”

It took Narmaya a moment to remember she had a prolapsed tail, but then the nerves stitched together, and she felt it distend from her back pussy. It was telescoping like Teena’s onahole cunt, only with a greater base billowing out and the length sodden and sopping wet with the juices of an inside out sex. Eventually, she found the wherewithal to comply. Right after her tail started playing with the captain’s cocktails, of course. 

“The captain offers-” “-all of her dicks for me…” she murmured. “I must prove my strength and mmmhhfhghgkghhgl-”

She had managed to turn to face the captain, come up the side and planted her face into the cock forest. There were four, rapidly growing. The law of conservation of lewdness hid them from public view until the captain elected to put all four of her arms up without a shirt to cover them. From there, dicks of a thousand sizes and shapes erupted. The aura around them was humid and rank, with more musk parts per million that was fathomable for any other raunchy being. Narmaya had to persist - she must, for Djeeta’s sake, for the orgasm she craved. Her hands fumbled around, collecting handfuls of veiny flesh. Her mouths latched onto the biggest trees in the forest and tugged, until she’d gathered as much as she could feasibly enjoy at once.

Then, only then, did she suckle, and pull, and rub with her thumbs, and jerk with her wrist, and haphazardly jack off the captain as the captain fingered her too.

The words between them mashed together in a slurry of nonsense syllables. Coordination died. Five heads among them, and not one knew how to articulate words. The pair found themselves lost in each other’s bodies. Touching beget electric desire, and electric desire channeled up one neck and into another, amplifying again and again. They soon knew only how to feel and grope, kiss and suck, and the trivial concerns before orgasm collapsed into unorganized fodder.

They would not cum easy. None of the sex monsters were that easy to tire. Nor did they orgasm quickly. Djeeta gave them stamina for days, endurance for weeks, and the stalwart resistance of giants to the little death. The aftershocks of a normal ejaculation came and went, before earthquakes sent their bodies into momentary spasms of activity. Cooldown came, maybe five minutes, before steel pumped back into their spines and rejuvenated their spirits for another long go. 

The orgy had no effective end. Eating and drinking became relegated to the same act of indulgence. Only boredom would stop them now.

They could love each other for days on end. Djeeta had no regrets.

She had her favorite characters at her beck and call, as partners to fuck in choreographed dance. Narmaya, Heles, Teena - all inducted into the sexiest horror show she had ever put to print.

Djeeta was proud. At the times where she could think straight in the multi-day debauchery, she often lavished her love on them, her wonderful creations. She made refinements to them, their extraneous filigree, but their concepts were too perfectly sensual to take away.

For five days and six nights, she made love to the girls in the tea room of the Grandcypher with no regrets.

________________________________________

~ Epilogue - Next Week ~ 

A morning came where the orgy felt a trifle less engaging than usual. Outside the tea room, crewmembers had gathered, worried about the captain’s condition but unwilling to interrupt her extended liaison with the trio of sex monsters. Djeeta decided, with a little reluctance, to break for water and to reassure everyone they were fine.

It was quite the process. The smell was so powerful that crewmates were fainting on contact or struck dumb by the muskiness of the scene. Contained in the tea room for weeks, it was certainly bottled up. But with some vigorous commanding, and a little accommodation from local reality, the crew got their wits about them and began cleaning.

Narmaya bade farewell in stereo, leaving a trail of juices from her needy breast pussies as her four legs carried her out the door. She conceded affection from the rest of the ship, attending to the needier human crewmates. Heles, ever-bewildered, wandered away to ejaculate some more. Her balls were too active, and she was addicted to the taste of cum on her tongue. Teena, more confident with her height and length than ever, elected to stay. As soapy suds hit the deck, she chatted with the deckhands, bright with blush, and steaming hot from sixty plus cocks sitting attention.

Though really, it wasn’t all the eyes on her body that made Teena irrationally horny. It was the captain, sitting ass to ass with her, anus and taint swollen to horse-like proportions to meet Teena’s unconscionable size. The ambient heat of their near-kiss of their horse taints turned the mage’s brain to slush. Their tanned donuts occasionally made contact, eliciting gasps from the eight legged stallion.

Djeeta grinned, appreciating the spectacle. She’d gotten the whims out of her system, and was ready to cool off while the deckhand scrubbed and recovered pieces of torn furniture and broken porcelain. Naturally, the kiss didn’t affect her nearly as much, because if it did, her three heads would be back in the thick of it again, and a captain should really be more responsible to her crew, shouldn’t she?

Midway into the afternoon, a message came up the deck. Djeeta wondered who exactly would want to contact her in the middle of an internimbus journey, but let it through. Good news or bad news was welcome from the admittedly relaxing tedium.

Suddenly, an aura of light came through a crack in the door. Heavenly force pushed it open, and the tea room was flooded with an archangel’s light. It’s like normal light, but more important. Djeeta shielded her eyes, as a conjoined figure floated past the door frame.

“BE NOT AFRAID-” “-CAPTAIN OF THE GRANDCYPHER!” “WE COME IN PEAS!” 

Everyone eyed the figure, as much as they could, quizzically. All the more when one side furnished a can of peas.

A beat passed, and the angels snickered to themselves. “Oh, sorry! Sorry, everyone! We’re just messing around, we mean you no harm!”

Djeeta sighed, planting all hands on her hips. “Hello Hal, Mal.”

The conjoined angels waved back. Once separate, Halluel and Malluel now shared a single torso. Tan and pale-caucasian skin ran like swirling coffee down the center. It was forked down the middle with a third leg, while their sides were occupied with six arms and twice as many wings. Voluminous hair was broken up with wing-ears, curling horns, and another two sets of foxy earlobes, a corona of fluffy textures. 

They twiddled many fingers. Djeeta twiddled some back. “We wanted to tell you something important, but-” “We guess you already know, huh?”

“That’s-” “-quite-” “-correct.”

“It would seem imprudent to mention it in front of your crew.” “Unless you would like them to know?”

At least they were considerate. Djeeta met their gaze with a nod in the negative. “When I’m ready.” “Stay a while though!”

“Hmm?” “What for, captain?”

Djeeta beamed. “Why else-” “-would an angel come to visit-” “if not for earthly delights~”

The angels caught Djeeta’s meaning, and the flattery was so apparent they giggled for what felt like minutes. “You’re too kind, captain. And really cute.” “I suppose we have the time to spare before returning… We can explain our absence to Michael later. That fine, Mal?” “Mhm~!”

The crew rolled their eyes affectionately. Teena chanced a grin. “Do I get to join in, captain?”

Djeeta shot her a smirk. Teena shuddered out a happy sigh.

So much for a short break. The night ahead promised to be long, and unabashedly kinky.


End file.
